


Vulnerability

by raviolitheif



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hakoda is a good dad, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 00:45:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12265464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raviolitheif/pseuds/raviolitheif
Summary: Zuko just wants a real father.





	Vulnerability

**Author's Note:**

> this is a commission piece, please enjoy ^^

He knew better than to think so selfishly.

It had been a mission to save Sokka’s father from a lifetime of suffering, not to try and take him for himself. But after the events that had taken place at Boiling Rock, Zuko couldn’t help but feel like maybe this was what it was like to have a real father. One that cared, that was good to the core and valued his son's opinion and wellbeing. He saw the love Hakoda had for Katara and Sokka when they were reunited and it made some shriveled, desperate part of his heart ache for a fatherly figure that cared as much as Hakoda clearly did for his children. Watching him hug them both upon their return made his chest tight and his throat close up, memories of how his own father never treated him with such kindness resurfacing to dampen his happy, post-rescue mission mood.

He knew it was selfish, but all Zuko wanted was a father.

It was surprising, to say the least, when Hakoda wasn’t more wary of Zuko when they first met. He was the son of the Fire Lord, their greatest enemy; that he showed no signs of maliciousness or discomfort when Zuko arrived  to aid them in their escape was amazing. Sokka must have said something in his favour, a detail that Zuko was immensely grateful for. Saving the man was extremely difficult and more than slightly life threatening, but Zuko wouldn’t have had it any other way.

If risking his life meant he could reunite his friends with their father, he’d do it three times over; as long as someone in their group still had someone to call family, he’d be content. They were a ragtag group of kids, after all. Some adult supervision couldn’t hurt.

As time passed and the novelty of being out of prison wore off, the group had more time to just be around one another. Conversation was a constant, but it was reserved for everyone that wasn’t him, really. He knew it wasn’t intentional, but distrust was still a presence around him. Because of this, it was almost as if Zuko was feeding off of the familial energy that Sokka, Katara, and Hakoda gave off, their sheer joy rolling off of the trio in waves tangible enough to leave Zuko a little empty when he realized he could never have the same thing.

It became increasingly harder to keep his gaze and thoughts to himself, his eyes always landing on Hakoda and his children when there was free time, taking his thoughts off of whatever task he was doing. The struggle to keep from watching so earnestly became so apparent that Hakoda himself approached Zuko on the matter, shooting a bolt of dread through the teen like ice cold venom.  

“Are you... doing alright?” Came Hakoda’s strong but unsure voice, the question worded carefully as he came to an uneasy stop before the ex-prince. He had a look of mild concern and discomfort on his face, and it was clear that it was tough for him to make direct eye contact with Zuko.

For all his usual confidence, Zuko suddenly felt small. He shrunk down a little under Hakoda’s wavering gaze, deflating in on himself. Jealousy probably wasn’t a good look on his face, he realized, even less so when it was shot at a father and his children, no matter how unintentional it may or may not have been.

Silently, Zuko wondered how pathetic it was that all he really wanted was a good dad to care about him even a little.

“I’m doing fine,” he replied dismissively, averting his gaze so that he was looking down at Hakoda’s shoes. His hands fiddled idly with what they were holding - a tea set. Had he gotten so lost in his familial yearnings that he’d forgotten he was packing for their next trip? A quick glance to the desk before him and a slow blink to process what he was looking at told him that yes, he had definitely stopped packing in favour of wishing he could have what Sokka and Katara had.

“You don’t look “fine,”  Zuko,” Hakoda pressed, stepping a little closer. “This,” he began, gesturing to all Zuko’s things strewn about haphazardly, “looks like you might be the opposite of fine.”

He had a point. Usually, Zuko’s things were always neat and orderly, as per his upbringing. That had steadily begun to change when he joined the Avatar instead of hunting him. But even then, his belongings remained in at least some kind of tidy order, if less strictly than before. But now? Now his things reflected his thoughts: scattered, haphazard, unfocused. There was no real order at all anymore, and the longer he thought about it, the more embarrassed he became.  

“Zuko... if something’s wrong, you have to say something. I know I wasn’t here before, so I’m not one to judge, but everyone else is saying that ever since we returned from Burning Rock, you’ve been off. Is something wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Zuko replied quickly, taking a minute step back. He wasn’t exactly lying, nothing was _truly_ wrong. “I just...”

Zuko stood stock still, the air growing silent, the word dragging on until it felt like it had manifested into a chasm between himself and Hakoda. As it should; Zuko didn’t deserve a good father. People like Aang, Katara, and Sokka did. But him? The very idea was laughable, so much so that Zuko chuckled bitterly under his breath to combat the stinging in his eyes.

“I see the way you look at my children and I,” Hakoda said quietly, ducking his head to try and get Zuko’s attention. “Envy, jealousy, want; you miss having a family, don’t you,” he asked, but it wasn’t quite a question. It was more like a statement, like he knew what was going through Zuko’s mind. “You miss having a father,” he clarified, then backtracked, Zuko’s silence seemingly filling in the story for Hakoda. “You want one that _cares.”_

When Zuko hung his head and nodded down at the ground silently, some small part of Hakoda’s heart broke and reached out for the former prince. Before him stood a boy betrayed by his own blood, hurt by the hand he loved so much. Before him stood a boy who watched a daughter and son interact the way they were supposed to, with love and kindness, and not with hatred and fire. Before him stood a boy who was crumbling inside because he never had a father that loved him the way he should have. Before him stood a boy with a scarred heart and scared eyes, who just wanted to be guided and cared for for once in his life before it was too late.

Fire nation prince or not, Zuko was hurting. 

A long, tense silence fell over the pair, only broken by the occasional caw of a distant bird or the plink of water from the far-off waterfalls that dripped into cool, crystalline pools where Katara could be found practicing her bending. Usually Aang was not far off, meditating by the rippling pools to keep focused. Trees swayed nearly silently in the wind, the breeze gentle but chilly.

Zuko continued to shrink in on himself and shuffle away, attempting to make himself as small as he could while simultaneously escaping; it was stupid of him to get so caught up in thoughts like these, they only served to make him seem pathetic, weak, and pitiful. Maybe he shouldn’t have joined up with the Avatar after all, maybe he should have run off to the middle of nowhere and started over again, maybe he was better off de--

His train of thought was abruptly cut short when a set of long and incredibly strong arms practically dragged him in for a hug so tight that he could have sworn his bones creaked in more than just mild protest. Zuko’s face was effectively buried into Hakoda’s shoulder, shielding him from the world around them. In that moment, he felt safe to let his emotions truly show. And he did. He wrapped his arms around Hakoda in kind, held on as if it were life or death and he was choosing life.

For the first time in a long time, Zuko let himself cry in the presence of an adult, let himself cry without the fear of being harshly reprimanded or made fun of. He let himself really feel everything he’d kept bottled up for so long, all the self loathing, loneliness, and pain.

He wanted this. He wanted a father, one that cared about him. He missed how it felt to be held by arms with an owner that cared. Zuko stood there and allowed himself to be rocked back in forth, felt himself relax a little further into the embrace until he could no longer feel his tears welling up. He allowed Hakoda’s hands to calm him, one rubbing soothing lines up and down his back, the other petting ever-so-gently at his hair. It took Zuko a very long time to realize that Hakoda was speaking, cooing lightly in an attempt to subdue him.

“Let it out, it’s okay,” he whispered, the soothing tone of his voice only serving to make Zuko start crying all over again, even harder than before. “You’re a good man, Zuko, you’ve done well to get this far. A true father would be proud of the change we’ve seen in you.”

If Zuko listened hard enough, he’d notice a certain amount of strain in Hakoda’s voice. The situation was clearly taking its emotional toll on the warrior as well. His hand shook as he tried to calm the prince, but after a time, they both began to simmer down. Tears flowed more and more slowly until what few that remained became insignificant. Hiccups simmered down to minor jumps of the shoulders, which mellowed still until all was quiet and calm.

After a long, careful moment of silence, Hakoda leaned away, trying to assess Zuko’s state of being. His own red-rimmed eyes peered down into Zuko’s, one scarred and one clear, though equally puffy and littered with unshed tears. Zuko blinked quickly and wiped the remaining droplets away, sniffling into his sleeve rather unattractively before trying to stand a little taller.

“You don’t have to try so hard to be strong all the time,” Hakoda chuckled, voice still thick and tight with emotion. “We all struggle sometimes. We all deserve good things, even when we think we don’t. We all deserve to be a little fragile,” he offered, a wobbly smile on his face that would have looked comical out of context. He reached out and put a reassuring hand on Zuko’s shoulder, rubbing a little bit of the tension out.

Zuko nodded, but kept the tears at bay. He hadn’t cried so much in so long, and he honestly didn’t want to start all over again. This though, this had been nice. Hakoda was right, he deserved to be vulnerable now and then.

“Sokka and Katara are very lucky to have you as a father,” he mumbled with a wry attempt at a smile, eyes glued to the stones beneath their shoes.

“Zuko... You know that family isn’t always something you’re born to, right?” When Zuko simply shot Hakoda a look of more than just mild confusion, he decided to continue. “Family can be what you make it. Blood is blood, but family is what you care about and what cares about you back. We... we all care about you Zuko. As far as I’m concerned, you already have the family you’ve been longing for.”

Zuko’s eyes shot up to Hakoda’s so quickly he felt a small headache arise, and everything around the man before him went fuzzy for a moment.

_‘As far as I’m concerned, you already have the family you’ve been longing for.’_

The longer Hakoda’s words rang through his head, the more Zuko realized that he was right. With every success and every good day that passed with Aang and his friends, the more included Zuko felt. The less alone, less alienated he became, the more he realized he didn’t miss his old family, save for his mother. His real father and Azula weren’t family, no matter what genetics said. A real family didn’t betray its own, real fathers didn’t disfigure their sons, and real siblings didn’t try to kill one another at any chance they got. He had a family right here in front of him; a dysfunctional, crazy, and very young family, but a family nonetheless.

All that was missing was Iroh, and it’d be perfect.

With a matching watery grin, Zuko nodded and wiped his face off again, sure that the tears would not return to wet his rubbed-raw cheeks again, at least not quite so soon. He sniffled a little grossly and then composed himself, holding back a tiny laugh when Hakoda subtly mirrored his actions.

“Thank you,” he said after a pregnant moment of silence, “I... needed that a lot more than I thought I did.”

“I think that I did too, on some level,” Hakoda said in kind, his expression calming into a more stable, completely fond smile. “We all need to cry, Zuko. It doesn’t make you... weak, to show a little vulnerability. It takes a strong man to show emotion like that when he was told never to do so all his life.”

Zuko simply nodded, unsure of what else to say. A silence befell them once more, but it wasn’t awkward or tense.

“I want you to know that you can always come to me if you need advice,” Hakoda spoke up eventually, head tilted ever-so-slightly to establish eye contact once more. “I mean it, Zuko, if you think I can help, or if you just want someone to talk to, I can do that,” he reiterated, making sure Zuko understood him. The young man nodded and blinked several times, mildly taken aback by how insistent Hakoda was. “I have to get back to packing up, and I think you do as well, but this was good. Never be afraid to reach out and tell people what you want. You’re not the you you used to be, we trust you.”

Speechless, Zuko could still only nod dumbly at Hakoda’s words. A warmth bloomed in him; _‘we trust you.’_

“Thank you,” he managed to say, backing away a little. The state of his half finished packing came back to mind and he realized that they had taken quite some time for this little emotional breakdown. “Thank you,” he repeated, a truer smile on his face.

Hakoda gave Zuko’s shoulder one more fond, fatherly pat before nodding and turning around to head back to his own things and finish his own packing as well. Zuko could see Sokka meeting him halfway, shooting worried glances between him and his father and clearly asking a million questions and then some. Hakoda only shook his head and waved the questions off, getting Sokka back to the task at hand.

Zuko turned back to his things, organizing them to fit in with his new family's belongings.

**Author's Note:**

> tell me what you think! if you like my work, please consider commissioning me or sending me a [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/hanzosaltmada)


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